


Legendaries of the Present World

by Bluwiikoon



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Human & Pokemon Friendship, Wholesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29339799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluwiikoon/pseuds/Bluwiikoon
Summary: A series of short stories about Legendary Pokémon interacting with humans and modern human society. Intended to be relatively light-hearted.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	1. The Original One

In a place beyond space and time, they slumbered.  
  
Sometimes their rest was dreamless, and at other times, their mind's eye wandered to the small blue planet. The world they had crafted.  
  
It was an imperfect world, for they had made it that way. Only then could the life upon it flourish, change, and become many differing things. An endless number of possibilities, an unfurling blossom of hearts and souls and minds, each one distinct, unique. The planet grew in any way it so pleased, and it was beautiful.  
  
From their dreams, they could watch life on the small planet unfold. They could see creatures co-operating, building, fighting one another, creatures with sorrows spilling from their eyes. And, they could see living beings smile, their souls shining with warmth. All was as it should be.  
  
And yet, the original one was dissatisfied. Something was not right.  
  
They contemplated it for an age, unable to find an answer even as a dreamless sleep washed away their thoughts. A soothing oblivion.  
  
Silence.  
  
Darkness.  
  
And then, colours gently washed through their mind. More dreams, more visions of the living.  
  
...  
  
They stirred. A realisation.  
  
Struggling into full awareness, their turned their attention to the small world. Their visions of the world had brought them such joy, and yet, some kind of sadness. A yearning. They knew what they needed to do.  
  
Gathering their spirit together, they began to manifest in the universe, for the first time in an eternity.  
  
\-----  
  
Traversing the living plane was a different experience, but a welcome one. It was easy to forget the simple joys of inhabiting a body, to reach with corporeal limbs and to feel the energy of the universe around them. With the strength of the full awareness of their mind, locating a being with an ideal heart was as simple as merely crafting a star.  
  
They descended before the human, grass and flowers sprouting where their hooves touched the soil. As the human staggered back in uncertainty, cradling her tiny sunkern friend, they tilted their head and regarded her with a certain fondness. They could see that this human had experienced a difficult life, and yet had grown a beautiful soul through her own efforts and through the love for her Pokémon. Despite the hardships, she had persevered - a worthy soul.  
  
Realising the extent of their incredible stature, the original one settled into a sitting position in front of the unsure human. They were still, yet, gargantuan in comparison, but it had been eased some amount. Sending forth a feeling of amicability with their mind, they beckoned the small human forward.  
  
Leaning down to meet them, they got what they had arrived for. The human was petting their head. They were soothed.  
  
Enjoying the feeling of head scratches, feeling the gentle breeze and the nurturing light of the sun, they yet considered more possibilities. They posed a question to the mind of the human.  
  
Taken aback once more, the human "hmm"ed and "ahh"ed to herself, before retrieving a communications device from her pockets. The little sunkern nestled himself comfortably against the original one whilst his human friend was busy, no doubt feeling the warmth of their divinity. They watched the human, and they patiently waited.  
  
\-----  
  
Several humans of different shapes and sizes had come to meet the original one, summoned by the communications of the girl they had originally met. Among them were also various species of Pokémon. They were pleased to see so many different creatures with such thriving friendships, in yet such an incredibly small part of the world they had made - all of them, fully willing and ready to come forth to aid their friends.  
  
The conglomeration had quickly gotten to work at petting the divine being, and had even brought treats. They carefully picked a PokéPuff out of the hands of a short boy, savouring the sweet senses of taste that the pastry evoked. Some of the Pokémon, not having hands nor petting-capable limbs, merely huddled and nuzzled against their physical form, among the bed of flowers that their presence had called forth.  
  
Overcome by the comfort their attention brought, the original one carefully rolled over upon their side, allowing the eager humans access to some tummy pats. They were finally content.  
  
All was as it should be.


	2. The One Born from Mew's Shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter:** Mentions of abuse, POV of a character who deals with anxiety and negative thoughts. Enjoy!

It had been one week since he had stopped lurking and stepped into the light.  
  
There were still those who gave him looks of curiosity and awe, questions and doubts bubbling in their minds that they had not the courage to speak. It was only natural, after the circumstances of his birth and the various media publications and news outlets that wouldn't let him forget. They had even produced a movie based on it, as if the struggles he went through were just another entertaining story.  
  
...No, that was far too negative a way to perceive it. He still had his demons, but he tried to remind himself that people were just _curious_ about him. Nobody was out to get him, his abusers were long gone and he had every means of power to stop anyone else who ever tried.  
  
He was safe. He was welcome to walk anywhere a normal Pokémon could.  
  
His thoughts had brought his tail closer to him as he sat at the café table, taking small bites out of a toasted bagel. Outside the window he could see wild Pidove picking at the ground and cooing, and feel the presence of a lone Meowth watching them with great interest. The appliances in the café hummed, a warm and full sound. Steam billowed out of the coffee machine and brought with it an earthy, invigorating scent. He could hear the thoughts of a young woman turning over dialogue and story elements in her mind, tapping at a laptop nearby.  
  
He had soon calmed down, his tail unfurling a relaxed distance as he watched the world go by. Having such a nice, fresh-baked meal certainly helped, too. Watching the world from so close by was unnerving at first, but now it was something he greatly savoured. He had taken his first step into the city of day for a reason, after all.  
  
It was warm in the café, cosy. Were he a less dignified individual, he could happily curl up and just rest here. His residual anxiety warned him otherwise.  
  
Eventually he saw fit to leave, nodding gratefully at the café owner as he stepped into the streets. He drew his tail close to avoid the door, and kept it close still out of politeness for other pedestrians. He could feel more people looking at him, but did his best to ignore their stares. He _belonged_ here, just as they did.  
  
He walked for a while, paw pads cool on the brickwork of the unravelling streets. Many shiny and moving things tried to catch his attention from shop windows, but he ignored them. (He was not like his mother _Mew_ , he did _not_ need to chase after small and enticing objects.) Walking the streets at day was a vastly different sensory experience, sounds and sights and thoughts swirling all around, but he was familiar enough with the city to know exactly where he wanted to go. He couldn't let himself get distracted.  
  
He paused in front of a modest, professional-looking office. A stylised, clean logo of a rising sun adorned the front window - "Dawnside Pokémon Therapy".  
  
Perhaps today would be the day he began to put his demons to rest. Perhaps.  
  
...No, it _would_ be the day. He drew his breath in, tail swishing behind him as he clasped his hands. _Courage._  
  
He opened the front door to the office, and stepped up to the reception counter.  
  
"Oh-" The startled receptionist cleared her throat, quickly collecting herself together and smiling politely at Mewtwo. "Dawnside Pokémon Therapy, how may I help you?"


	3. The Wishing Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter:** Themes of grief and loss. Fun!

On the first night, they emerged from their cocoon. They blinked, blearily, and yawned, feeling the weight and exhaustion of a thousand years' slumber.  
  
They lifted their head to face the one holding them - a tall, greying man. They could sense the passion of the wishes in this man's heart, they could feel some kind of strange _anguish_ from his soul. And yet, as he looked upon Jirachi, his expression softened considerably.  
  
He did not make a wish that night. Instead, he took to caring for them. They didn't yet understand how, but they could sense both happiness and sadness in the man's heart.  
  
On the second night they awoke bundled in soft blankets, almost too cosy to consider moving. They didn't realise they had fallen asleep, but it must have become daybreak when they hadn't noticed. The plates of delicious food the man had made the prior evening had vanished, but the memory of it and Jirachi's smile had not.  
  
The man was quiet, but not unkind. When he realised Jirachi had awoken, he took once more to preparing a small banquet for his tiny guest. Jirachi attempted to summon the moving visions with the buttoned slab, and was happy when the man helped them to do so successfully. Perhaps, before they were cursed into hibernation once again, they would get the hang of using the "TV".  
  
On the third night, they settled into the man's lap as he pressed buttons on a different kind of "TV". This one had a lot more buttons, and they made a pleasing sound as he pressed multitudes of them, in so many patterns that Jirachi couldn't discern. The moving visions were less entertaining on this one, so their eyes wandered to the different doors in the hallway. They were yet too cosy to investigate further, happily huddled against their friend.  
  
The fourth night did not yield many answers for Jirachi. They had hovered over to a particular door, but could not figure out a means to open it without potentially breaking it. They did not want to upset their new friend by breaking his things, so they merely observed it and traced the glyphs upon it with their hands. When the man gently took their hand and guided them back to the "TV" area, they made no further fuss of it. Once more, however, they could feel a deep sadness running through the man's heart.  
  
The man was quieter than usual on the fifth night, although still extremely accommodating of his tiny guest. Jirachi had happily eaten the spaghetti the man made, but his own meal remained untouched. They huddled up to him as they usually did and received some very comforting head pats, but it only seemed to make the man sadder, more absent-minded. Jirachi asked him if he had thought of a wish yet. He didn't answer.  
  
On the sixth night, the man showed Jirachi what was in the locked room.  
  
There were too many colours to take in at first, they hardly knew what to focus on first. The walls of the room were dark with large stars, which they happily glided up to touch. Dotted all around were toys and books and plushies, neatly arranged into little shelves and boxes. The bed was a rainbow of pastel colours, with giant pillows that were just as fluffy and soft as they looked. And yet, it was all too perfect. As Jirachi joyously investigated as many toys as they could, they began to realise that this room had been untouched for some time - every single thing they picked up had a thick layer of dust on it.  
  
The man smiled as he watched Jirachi play, but they could see his sadness grow deeper still. They flew close to him, seeing now that his eyes were soft with tears, and the man gently pulled them into a hug. They stayed like that for a very long time.  
  
The seventh night was the last night. Jirachi knew they would be leaving soon, pulled back into a deep slumber for yet another millennia. When they awoke on the final night, they wanted to spend as much time with their friend as they could.  
  
Happily nuzzling and cuddling the man, they were treated to the biggest selection of treats and delicious food yet. It had taken a week for Jirachi to realise why the man was so adept at cooking, or why he had so many extra plates and small plates when he lived alone.  
  
The man picked up an overturned rectangle that Jirachi had seen before - underneath, it showed a picture of the man with a young child, both of them smiling brightly. He looked happier than they had ever seen him before in the picture, and nowhere near as grey-haired or wrinkled.  
  
He explained that when her mother had passed, his child was the only thing he had left. She, too, was taken from him too soon.  
  
Jirachi asked him if he wanted them to bring her back, but after a time, he refused. He shook his head, smiling with those same soft, teary eyes.  
  
Gently taking Jirachi's hands, he told them that he had thought of a better wish, a much kinder wish. He wanted Jirachi to be able to live and enjoy the world, to be able to experience more than a week of life at a time. He wanted to release Jirachi from their thousand-year prison.  
  
As the ribbons on their head lit up with a mystical force, both Jirachi and the man cried and hugged each other. The pain was still there in the man's heart, but they could sense it had lessened considerably. In some small way, he was finally at peace.  
  
On the eighth night, they would wake up again, and every single night after that. Jirachi's life had only just begun, and they were overjoyed.


	4. The Dauntless Shield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter:** Very brief mention of violence at the start. Good wolf gets pets.

Hop sighed dramatically, his arms behind his head as he reclined on a bench. "I really thought we had it that time! We'll beat Leon next time, right Zamazenta?"  
  
Zamazenta nuzzled the boy gently, receiving a thorough head pat in return. The boy had not yet realised that it was not a matter of power that drove their losses, but a matter of restraint. Hop's brother had mastered the art of defeating an opponent without slaying them, an admirable skill in these times of peace. A skill the old wolf needed to hone, for he had only been shaped by the arts of war. Until then, he was perhaps too careful in order to avoid bloodshed.  
  
Another deep sigh, but it wasn't long until the boy's bright smile returned. "Well, I have some good news, at least."  
  
Zamazenta tilted his head quizzically, tail wagging softly as he regarded Hop.  
  
"I'm gonna go home and visit my Mum today! You're gonna love meeting her, mate," said Hop, grinning happily.  
  
Zamazenta barked and nuzzled Hop once again, tail wagging harder, as the boy laughed and ruffled the wolf's fur. The mother of such a noble boy could only be a very noble and honourable person herself.  
  
"I'm gonna have to recall you while I'm in the taxi, but I won't leave you in the Poké Ball for too long, ok?" Zamazenta licked Hop's hands in affirmation, and the boy gave the wolf a good few pats on his side. "We'll be there before you know it!"  
  
The Poké Ball, at least, was a great place for a nap.  
  
\-----  
  
"...And _this_ must be Zamazenta!"  
  
He couldn't help but wag his tail furiously, bowing his head to the woman as a sign of respect. Hop's mother was soon petting Zamazenta all over and scratching him behind the ears, which, if anything, only increased the amount of joyous tail-wagging.  
  
"Muuum...! That's a legendary hero, you know!" Hop laughed, giving the old wolf some pats of his own.  
  
"Well, it's certainly an honour to have him here!" She hugged Zamazenta tightly, putting her face near one of his ears. "And thank you for keeping my little Hop safe, hmm?"  
  
He nuzzled the woman happily, nearly knocking the laughing Hop and Mum off their feet. She was, indeed, a kind and noble person.  
  
"Dinner shan't be too long, my dears," she said, dusting off some stray wolf fur. "Make yourself at home!"  
  
While his charge and his mother set to tasks in the house, Zamazenta enjoyed the sights of Wooloo meandering in the fields, of Butterfree chirping and fluttering through a clear blue sky. The gentle wind felt refreshing on his fur, bringing rich and full scents of fresh grass and hay, of the slowly bubbling stew in the kitchen. Sprawled out in the garden in front of Hop's house, Zamazenta felt comfortable.  
  
His daze slowly left him as something soon caught his attention. Cinderace, his ally in battle, was kicking around a large ball in a neighbouring field. It seemed the hot-headed bunny had seized a toy from the boy's house.  
  
"You having fun there, mate?" Hop laughed, walking out of the door with a glass of juice. He cheered enthusiastically as Cinderace kicked the ball high into the air, and when the rabbit made quick, flourished movements to catch it on the way down.  
  
Zamazenta watched the ball get kicked and bounced around, a feeling growing in his chest. He slowly got to his feet, stepping towards the playing field, regarding the speedy plaything with an intense interest. He paused, for a while. And then - he struck.  
  
Cinderace squealed and laughed indignantly as he had to jump even higher than before to catch the ball, doing a forwards roll in the air and landing squarely on his feet. Zamazenta, brought into the field by a mighty jump of his own, crouched before the bunny and wagged his tail slowly and playfully, while Hop hooted and hollered.  
  
"Yeah! I didn't know you wanted to play, Zamazenta!" He fist-pumped the air, nearly dropping his drink in all his enthusiasm. "Go get 'em!"  
  
He barked, happily, and Cinderace hopped around and kicked the ball from one foot to another, eager to duel his ally in a game of catch. A most worthy opponent.  
  
The world was now a place where play and sport could thrive, and Zamazenta was ready to enjoy it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Legendaries of the Present World: The King of Bountiful Harvests](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29780736) by [Claudia (ShiningStarsSystem)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShiningStarsSystem/pseuds/Claudia)




End file.
